


On Fire

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Angry Sex, Biting, Canon-Typical Violence, Cunnilingus, F/F, Post-murder sex, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-24 23:57:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14964698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: Black Sails Kink Meme Prompt Fill:Eleanor/Anne, angry sex around the time/aftermath of the murders of the Ranger crew.





	On Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [В огне](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18140897) by [Melis_Ash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melis_Ash/pseuds/Melis_Ash)



Anne’s blood thrummed in her veins, the scent of death clinging to her. She’d rarely felt remorse over killing a man, but tonight went further than that lack of guilt. Tonight she felt exhilarated and it was partly due to the ruthless cunning of Eleanor Guthrie’s plan. The fucking truth of that astounded Anne. Eleanor was a devious bitch; she couldn’t deny that and she wanted Eleanor to know it had come off successfully and she wanted to celebrate, wanted someone to know what they had done. She couldn’t tell Jack obviously. And she couldn’t tell Max, though part of Anne relished the thought of Max knowing Anne had done that for her, to keep her safe. She wanted Max to feel safe, but she didn’t want her to feel beholden to Anne, not thinking she owed Anne a goddamn thing.

Which was how she found herself on Eleanor’s doorstep again, hand hesitating before she knocked, quick and rough, half ready to pull away again.

Eleanor pulled the door open quickly, her eye searching Anne’s face. “Is it done?” she asked tersely.

Anne gave her a tight nod. She still didn’t know why she was here, not exactly.

“Well come in then.” Eleanor said impatiently, stepping aside so Anne could enter. So she did, stepping into the well-lit room.

It smelled like warmth, and home and Eleanor. Anne shrugged uncomfortably. She didn’t like Eleanor, but there were times she had to admire her, and this was one of them. Eleanor with her rosebud mouth, and her flaxen hair all pulled back like she was still a lady though Anne knew better. There was a still a curl escaping here and there, clinging to Eleanor’s face with weary sweat.

Eleanor went to fetch the rum without even prompting, as though she knew why Anne had come. “Jesus fuck, I can’t believe we got away with it.”

“Not yet we haven’t.” Anne reminded her. “Not until they know for sure that it’s done.”

Eleanor made an impatient face. “Still. We did it.” She poured out two drinks and held one tin cup out to Anne. “Here.”

Anne took it, registering the heat inside her as their fingers touched. Heat that usually made her seek out Jack, for a quick fuck that would soothe the raw ache inside her. For a while at least. But Jack weren’t here, and she couldn’t go to him this time, couldn’t explain the need within her.

Eleanor was here. She set the bottle back down on the floor near the foot of the bed and walked to the window, throwing it open to the night. She stood in front of Anne, drinking her rum with a satisfied expression. And then she turned her head and Anne watched the curve of her neck, the warm skin there, that would taste sweet under her mouth, and caught her eye.

Eleanor gazed back at her and Anne licked her lips, conscious now, of being here in this warm room with this woman she didn’t even like, watching her body in the lamplight, like a ship on the ocean, ripe for the taking.  _You didn’t have to like someone to fuck ‘em_ , Anne reasoned.

Eleanor downed the rest of her rum, her lips gleaming, tilting her head, gazing at her. “When a man looks at me like that, I know what he’s thinking.”

“Do you?” Anne said carelessly. She took another swig, wiping the back of her mouth. “And what’s that?”

“That he wants to fuck me.” Eleanor’s lips curved into a smile.

“Is that right?”

Eleanor nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. “So what’s it mean when you’re wearing it?”

Anne smiled. It was the sort of smile that if Jack was present, he would have given a speech of warning to the other person present, just so they knew what they were getting into. But Jack wasn’t here and Anne didn’t believe in warning people.

“Same thing.”

Eleanor’s smile widened. “Good.” She reached for her bodice, starting to unbutton it.

Anne watched her with hungry eyes, and then she leaned in, pressing Eleanor back against the window shutter as she slipped a hand between Eleanor’s legs, making her gasp.

“I still don’t like you.” Anne growled into the v of Eleanor’s throat, licking her skin and finding her salty-sweat and sweet as hell. God, Anne wanted to bite her. So bite her she did, leaning down to press her teeth against Eleanor’s exposed breast.

Eleanor gasped so Anne did it again, licking at the sweat between Eleanor’s pale breasts.

“I don’t like you either.” Eleanor said tartly, if a little breathlessly. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t fuck.” She pushed at Anne, maneuvering them neatly so that Anne was up against her desk and got her breeches open as she knelt.

Anne watched, her lips parted in half stunned amazement, half wonder as Eleanor’s mouth pressed to her. Her blood sang more loudly, so loudly she could hardly hear her own harsh breaths, her knuckles white as she gripped the desk. Eleanor’s tongue was a devil of its own, flicking over her clit, before pressing inside. Anne had never moaned, she didn’t do that, not in bed, not in fear, not ever, she liked to hear others give up that sound, but Eleanor made her want to moan.

She was so close and then Eleanor’s fingers gripped her thighs, her blunt nails grazing the skin hard enough to make Anne gasp, and she was gone, flung out into the darkness of the sea, her heart pounding like the waves. Her head sank back and she let herself fall away into its depths.

Eleanor looked up at her with a triumphant shit-eating grin and Anne wanted to punch her and kiss her in the same sharp moment. Her breasts rose and fell with the high of her orgasm, her skin prickling like she was fresh from the fight and ready to board a hundred ships.

Eleanor sat back on her heels, looking at her with those eyes that Anne never wanted to look into, never wanted to see the wordless desire there, the depths of Eleanor’s world, pure unfiltered longing and the need to keep everything close, so close no one else ever got the chance to know her.

And then Eleanor simply rose to her feet and kissed her. Anne was so startled that her lips parted, letting Eleanor deepen the kiss, letting the power of it roll over Anne’s body like a hurricane. Eleanor kissed like she fought, like she swore, like she rose above the tide of men in Nassau threatening to try to bring her to her knees, but she wouldn’t let them. She was so confident and sure that Anne felt a surge of hatred rising in her belly.  _Damn Eleanor Guthrie_.

She broke the kiss, shoving at Eleanor who gasped in surprise.

“Think you’re so good?” Anne sneered. “Anyone can get off.” She shoved at Eleanor again, following her in quick strides. They hit the wall and Eleanor clasped Anne’s face, kissing her harshly, her teeth biting deep into Anne’s lower lip and fuck, Anne moaned then. The heat throbbed between her legs, even though she had just come. The blood sang again, rising higher and hotter, and damnit if she didn’t need to come again, already.

She answered it by tugging at Eleanor’s skirts, pulling them up and pressing a finger sharp inside her.

Eleanor’s sound was a cry of pure need. Anne knew that sound, heard it over the dark sea on lonely nights. She knew how to answer that too, pressing deeper, searching and then Eleanor gasped, her fingers sliding down to grip Anne’s shoulders, her whole body shuddering in complete surrender. Her juices ran down Anne’s fingers, and Anne just kept stroking her, urging her higher.

“Fucking jesus christ, fuck.” Eleanor panted. “Like that, yes, god.”

Anne’s smile was sweet as the blades she carried, and she kept fucking Eleanor until she made a soft mewing sound of surrender, and went limp. Only then did Anne release her.

Eleanor’s face was flushed, her hair clinging to her face in damp sweaty tendrils. Anne thought about brushing them back with her fingers but they weren’t like that with each other. 

They stumbled backwards to the bed, holding on to each other, both of them knowing this wasn’t finished yet.

“I want to taste your cunt.” Eleanor pulled at her and Anne let her, knowing she could pull back at any moment.

“You already did.” Anne knelt on the bed, watching her. Eleanor’s breasts spilled out of her bodice and there were bite marks there, marks Anne had put there, that Eleanor would cover up with a fresh shirt tomorrow, but they would linger on her skin for days. Anne felt a stab of satisfaction at that.

“Not when it was slick with you.” Eleanor smirked.

The heat rose in Anne’s face but Eleanor simply sank down on the bed, daring her with her eyes and Anne never backed down from a challenge.

Anne rose up unsteadily on her legs and Eleanor simply reached for her, bringing her cunt down upon her mouth. Anne pressed her palms against the wall, trying to brace herself, trying to hold on to something here. Eleanor’s hands gripped her ass, her tongue lapping greedily at Anne’s cunt, so sensitive and still hungry for more, always wanting more.

She was so close, she was going to come, but she couldn’t stay upright, her knees wouldn’t hold her and she rolled off, lying on her back. Her cunt stung with the need to come, still wanting.

“Lie still.” Eleanor whispered, but it was an order and Anne obeyed, as her chest heaved. Eleanor’s fingers sunk deeper inside her, fucking her deep, and Anne moaned again, letting the sound escape out into the night.

She closed her eyes, not wanting to face the fact that Eleanor was able to do these things to her, make her feel like this. It wasn’t fair, it didn’t matter. None of it mattered. The sea rose up inside her again like a tidal wave and then Eleanor’s finger slipped out of her.

“…the fuck?” Anne opened her eyes.

Eleanor merely leaned down between her thighs once more, slinging Anne’s exhausted legs over her shoulders, and Anne gasped, her back arching upward in shock, fresh pleasure rippling over. Eleanor’s tongue flicked over her clit again, her teeth grazing it and then she nipped, just the finest pressure of teeth on Anne and Anne shrieked, a hoarse needy sound and then Eleanor did it again deliberately, both in retribution for the bites on her breasts, as well as knowing it was what Anne needed now, what she craved.

Anne’s fingers gave in and reached for Eleanor, combing through her hair, pulling until Eleanor’s hair spilled down over her shoulders, covering them both. It was a mass of gold and as Anne shuddered helplessly, her body finally surrendering yet again, she was struck by how goddamned pretty Eleanor Guthrie was.

Finally Eleanor lifted her head, raising herself up on her hands, looking at Anne’s face. Then slid over to the other side of the bed, half leaning against the pillows, half against the wall. Anne listened to the sound of her breath. Outside the room the sounds of Nassau at night continued, but here, there was only them in their silence.

They’d shared something tonight, the deaths of those men on the beach, the blood on Anne’s knives, and their bodies now. It all mingled together, but it made no difference, Anne figured. They’d keep this secret, bloody in its making, and no one would know.

At last Eleanor sighed and leaned sideways enough that Anne thought she was gonna fall off the bed, but Eleanor simply came back up with a bottle and lifted it triumphantly. She took a long swig and then held it out to Anne who accepted it.

The rum brought her back to herself. She needed that.

Eleanor drew a long breath. “So…” She said slowly, trying to think of the words that needed to be said.

“A fuck’s a fuck.” Anne said callously.

Eleanor nodded. “Exactly. There’s no need to speak of this again.” She held out her hand and Anne just looked at it with a snort of derision. Something though, something made her take that offered hand, and they shook upon it, silently agreeing not to let this pass out of this room.

Anne would leave the memories of Eleanor’s skin, her scent, her cunt, her sweetness behind here, amongst the rumpled sheets and shared rum bottle. There was no place for that in her way forward.

Still her hips swayed with satisfaction, in every sense of the word, as she made her way back through the dark streets. And when she stripped off her clothes and climbed into bed beside Jack, the night felt stifling as she remembered Eleanor’s mouth, and her fingers still tasted like Eleanor when Anne brought them to her lips.


End file.
